


Duckling

by missmichellebelle



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Parent-Child Relationship, Parenthood, Post-Canon, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-21 04:25:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10677633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmichellebelle/pseuds/missmichellebelle
Summary: The ballet classes are, inevitably, Victor’s idea.





	Duckling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Haileycl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haileycl/gifts).



> okay I'm posting this in a rush and I'll add a proper note later about things but AAAAH I started this forever ago for Hailey, and today is her birthday, so hAPPY BIRTHDAY HAILEY HERE'S THAT DAD!VICTUURI FIC I PROMISED okay byeeeee

Umi is four when she asks Yuuri and Victor if she can take ballet classes.

More accurately, she wraps her impossibly tiny hand around two of Victor’s fingers and says, very softly, that she wants to dance like ‘Tousan one day.

The ballet classes are, inevitably, Victor’s idea.

“What? You don’t want to teach our little girl to dance?” Victor asks when Yuuri doesn’t immediately rush to agree.

“I didn’t say that,” Yuuri says around a sigh. “But I can do that privately. She doesn’t need to take classes.” Yuuri owns the studio, after all. If he wanted to reserve a room once a week to start teaching Umi positions and how to plié, he could easily do so.

Victor’s mouth thins into a serious, contemplative line.

“I think the classes would be good for her,” he stresses, voice gentle, and they both glance over to where Umi is carefully coloring. For all that she has Victor’s outlandishly attention-grabbing hair, she has the dark Katsuki eyes and roundness to her face—and Yuuri’s quiet, careful temperament. Sometimes he wishes that she had been more like Victor, or even more like Mari, but she breathes a little too quickly in crowded places and seems to think far, far too much for a four-year-old.

 _She’s more and more like you everyday_ , Victor says, and Yuuri wishes, for her sake, that she wasn’t.

“But my classes?” Yuuri asks, still feeling unsure.

“I think that’ll be easiest for her, having you there.” Victor brushes some hair out of Yuuri’s face, letting his fingers slide down to cup his cheek, and Yuuri sinks into the touch. “Like a safety net.”

Yuuri sighs, and Victor starts to smile, the telltale beam that he’s won a battle that Yuuri hadn’t even bothered fighting.

“Papa?” Umi asks from her place at the table, and they turn to look at her. “We color now?”

Victor’s face blossoms into a smile, and he kisses Yuuri’s temple before heading to join their daughter.

“Oh! What a beautiful mermaid, _ribka_.”

“ _Spasibo_ , Papa.”

*

Yuuri’s first pre-ballet class, the _Duckling_ class, is in the middle of the day, and so it isn’t a surprise when he sees the bright beacon of Victor’s hair through the window as he preps for his students. What _shouldn’t_ be a surprise is the way all of the moms waiting out in the hallway blatantly stare as Victor walks past them, engrossed in a conversation with Umi and seemingly oblivious to the awe he’s suddenly garnering.

As if Victor has ever been blind to the kind of attention people give him. He’s spent the majority of his life looking at himself through the eyes of other people, and Yuuri knows how deeply that subconscious knowledge goes. Can see it in the way Victor holds himself just the slightest bit differently, how his smile inches bigger, and brighter, until it can’t possibly be real.

(It isn’t.)

None of the other parents have broached the classroom yet, but Victor doesn’t let that stop him.

“Yuuri,” Victor calls in greeting, smile shifting into something more familiar and warm as his voice echoes off the mirrored surfaces of the studio. Umi is hurrying over to him in shuffling steps, and Yuuri has to press his knuckles to his mouth, seeing her done up in her soft pink leotard, light haired twisted up into a bun.

“Look, ‘Tousan.” She holds her arms out and spins in a circle. “Just like you.”

Yuuri smiles, dropping to a crouch to be eye level with her.

“Just like me, Umi,” he agrees quietly. “Now say bye to Papa, he’ll be back to pick you up when class is over.”

Victor’s face drops into a pout.

“I can’t stay and watch?” He asks, forlornly, and Yuuri notices that the doors are opening again, admitting more leotard-clad little girls and their parents—almost exclusively mothers. Many of them are whispering to one another, shooting looks over at them. Or, to be more precise, at Victor.

“You know the rules, Vitya,” Yuuri chastises fondly, unfolding to his full height again. “No parents in class.” Victor gives him the kind of smile that only precludes trouble, and Yuuri quickly holds up his finger. “Teachers excluded.” Seriously, it was Victor’s idea that Umi be in his class, after all. Not that Yuuri doesn’t agree with him, in the long run. Yuuri remembers his first skating lessons, and how much easier they might have been if there had been even one familiar face there. “Umi can show you everything she’s learned at home tonight.”

Victor glances down at their daughter, who is watching the whole exchange quietly, face blank aside from her eyes—wide and curious, like she’s carefully taking in and considering everything her parents are saying. Yuuri can’t help but wonder if he was that perceptive as a child.

With a soft sigh, Victor bends down to kiss the crown of Umi’s hair, muttering a soft endearment in Russian before glancing up at Yuuri. “Be good for ‘Tousan, da?”

“Yes, Papa.”

Victor gives them both a smile, and a promise to see them in _exactly_ 45 minutes, when class ends, and then strides out of the ballet studio with all the poise and grace of the retired figure skating champion that he is. Considering Yuuri once saw him slide into their kitchen island by moving around too enthusiastically in his socks, it almost makes him laugh.

“Okay, Umi, I have to greet the other students, okay?” He says gently, and his heart breaks as her face immediately pinches into something like panic. “Why don’t you stretch to get ready,” he suggests, keeping his voice soft. “Like you do with me and Papa at home. Butterfly legs, remember?”

She still looks unsure, lips pressed into a thin line, but she gives a small, hesitant nod. He waits until she’s settled on the floor, making sure she’s not in danger of hurting herself, before striding over to the mothers fussing over their daughters by the entrance.

It’s hard, as he strides over, _not_ to overhear their hushed conversations.

“Oh my _god_ , did you see him?”

“Does anyone know who he is? He looks _famous_.”

“Retired model. He’s gotta be a retired model.”

“Bringing his daughter to ballet class, how precious is that?”

“My husband couldn’t care less about Candace’s ballet.”

“Do you think maybe he’s a single father?”

“Like it would matter, Barb, you’ve been married eight years.”

“Can’t stop a girl from dreaming, Dinah.”

Yuuri coughs to disguise a laugh, and then properly clears his voice, gathering the parents’ attention.

“Good morning, and welcome to pre-ballet, the Duckling class.” Most of the mothers quiet down, attention rapt on Yuuri as he begins to explain the rules of the class (tutus are for recitals only; no, sorry, parents are not allowed to stay during class—it’s a distraction) but there are some in the back still whispering.

A wry smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as the parents filter out of the room and he begins to usher the rest of his students (there are two little boys in his class—Joshua and Allen—and Yuuri can’t help but beam every time he looks at them) into a circle starting with Umi, encouraging them into their own butterfly stretches as he considers telling Victor about the gossipy moms in his class. It’s a double-edged sword—Victor could find it just as exasperatedly amusing as Yuuri does, or it’ll go to his head. They’ve been married long enough (together _longer_ ) that Yuuri is no stranger to people lusting after his husband, but just how Victor reacts to it still keeps him guessing, after all these years.

He supposes that’s what he gets for marrying Victor Nikiforov.

“Okay, class.” Yuuri settles on the floor beside Umi, bending his knees into his own butterfly stretch and sending her an encouraging smile. “Those are some really great butterflies I see! You’re all doing really well. Okay, next, I want you to try and get those wings as close to the ground as possible, and then _lean forward_.” Yuuri does so. “And try to touch your forehead to your feet.”

*

Victor only makes it about half an hour before he’s back at Yuuri’s studio, tray of Starbucks in hand (a latte for him, a tea for Yuuri, and a very diluted lemonade for Umi—but she accomplished something, and Victor is going to reward her for it). He thinks he did pretty well, actually, considering he had been shunned from his only daughter’s _very first_ ballet class. Yuuri better give him a very precise play-by-play tonight.

 _And_ let Victor watch the security footage.

It’s only fair, after all.

The studio room where the Duckling class ( _Duckling class_ , could his husband be any more adorable?) is smaller than most of the other rooms. It borders the main hallway, the only surface not covered in mirrors the adjoining wall that is clear glass from the waist up. It gives an easy view in to the class, where Yuuri is leading the children in a circle. They’re all up on the balls of their feet, and a small, brown-haired boy is gripping Yuuri’s hand fiercely.

He can’t be more than three.

Despite the studio belonging to Yuuri, he’s not the only teacher. And even though he could easily pass off the pre-ballet classes to one of the others, he insists on teaching them every time they’re offered. It makes Victor’s heart melt—his husband is so wonderful with children.

His eyes find Umi next, not right behind Yuuri but close enough, her face incredibly concentrated. She drops down a few times, but then pops right back up again, insistent. There’s no doubt in Victor’s mind that she’ll have her fathers’ stubbornness. They’re both far too obstinate for her not to have inherited it.

It’s not until the class is winding down and Yuuri is handing out progress trackers to all the little dancers that the other parents start filtering in. He’s surprised to see how many of them come in pairs or groups, and wonders how they all know one another.

“Oh dear,” one of the mothers laughs as she looks into the class. “That poor teacher. I wonder how long Allen has been holding onto him like that.”

“He doesn’t seem bothered,” the other replies. “Look at him—that guy is a natural with kids.”

Victor feels pride, warm and lifting, in his chest, and it takes every ounce of patience he has not to turn and confirm that Yuuri is absolutely wonderful with children. He doesn’t think Yuuri would be too happy with him if he announced to all the parents of his students that he was his husband.

Still, at least he can bask in their praise of him. Ever since they both retired, he doesn’t hear it _nearly_ as often. It’s such a shame, really. Sure, Victor tells Yuuri enough how amazing and beautiful and perfect he is, but it’s not enough—his husband deserves praise from the entire world, after all.

Yuuri is having everyone stand up now, smile encouraging, and then suddenly all of the little ones are dancing—certainly not ballet, their limbs too loose as they run around the room. Umi is holding hands with another little girl, and they spin in a circle, and Yuuri is twirling the little boy (Allen, apparently) by the hand that still hasn’t let go.

“That is the most precious thing I have ever seen,” whispers yet another mom.

“He has to be a father, right? No one is that good with kids without having one of his own.”

“Single dad, maybe?”

“Oh my goodness, Barb. Are you and Michael having issues? Should I be concerned?”

“Shut up.”

“Even if he was, and _you_ were, would it really matter? He teaches _ballet_.”

“Fair point.”

Victor has to cover his mouth with his hand to keep from laughing, and just as he does his husband looks up at him, eyes warming instantly. Umi is up in his arms now, and he spins her around once for Victor’s amusement before gesturing with his head for him to come in.

Class, it would seem, is over.

Just as at the start, Victor is the first one through the door, catching the tail end of Yuuri’s, “—so be sure to bring your sticker chart back next week, okay?” He still has Umi in one arm, and Allen is still holding tightly to his other hand.

“It would seem you’ve gained another child since I last saw you,” Victor teases as he walks up, admiring the lovely flush on Yuuri’s face. Pre-ballet is hardly physically demanding, but trying to keep 12 children behaving for nearly an hour? That would be exhausting for anyone.

“Oh no, I’ve gained 11.” Yuuri smiles, and before Victor can question it, the mother from before is walking over.

“I’m so sorry about him,” she gushes, holding out her hand so that little Allen can latch onto her instead of Yuuri. “He’s a little shy.” She’s shooting glances at Victor, seemingly taken aback by his presence, but seems to be trying her hardest to keep most of her attention on Yuuri.

“That’s all right.” Yuuri smiles, and Victor has to hold back his own dreamy sigh. How all of the parents he interacts with aren’t head-over-heels in love with him, Victor will never understand. “We had a good time today, didn’t we, Allen?”

Allen is staring at the floor, but he glances up shyly and nods, before tugging incessantly on his mom’s hand in a _can we please leave_ gesture.

They start to, after Allen’s mother thanks Yuuri a dozen more times, and then Allen looks back and says, “Bye, ‘Tousan!”

Victor nearly drops their drinks.

“Uh.” His husband glances at him almost sheepishly. “Umi kept calling me ‘Tousan in class,” Yuuri explains, looking slightly embarrassed. “It seems to have, uh, caught on.” As if on cue, several other students start wishing him goodbye, and he waves in turn, impressing on his students to practice their stretches and to show their parents what they learned that day.

It’s not the first time Victor has seen Yuuri in one of his classes, although he’s never attended the Duckling class before. He watches his Yuuri smile and say goodbye, all charm and genuine care, while still holding their daughter in his arms.

Victor is so helplessly in love with him.

“Is this your way of telling me you want more?” Victor asks, stepping closer than is appropriate, and Yuuri snaps a glare at him.

“More what?” Umi asks, catching Victor completely off guard as she glances between the two of them. She still hasn’t let go of Yuuri, and while Victor is only a little offended that his daughter doesn’t immediately want to jump into his arms, he also can’t fault her. Being held by Yuuri is a gift, after all.

Besides, he’s still holding that tray of drinks.

Yuuri and Umi are both staring him down—Umi, openly and innocently curious, and Yuuri faintly smug, the tight curl of his mouth and the rise of his eyebrows saying, _yes, Victor, more what?_

“I brought you tea,” he sing-songs instead, plucking the proffered item from the tray and wiggling it in the air. “And lemonade for my little ballerina, of course.” He steps even closer, pressing a smacking kiss to Umi’s temple, and she wrinkles her nose and smiles.

“‘Tousan.” She tugs on the neckline of Yuuri’s shirt, and he eases her down to the ground, swinging his arm slightly. He hasn’t been holding her for very long, but Umi is getting bigger everyday. She stands before Victor, the loveliest little thing in the world in her pastel pink leotard and tights, and Victor kneels down to present her with her lemonade with all the grandeur and flourish such a treat requires (which is to say, as much as he can muster with full hands).

“How’d she do?” Victor asks, lowering his voice as he stands up and properly hands Yuuri his tea. He wraps both hands around the warm cup but doesn’t take to sip it yet.

“She did… Really well.” Yuuri smiles, seemingly unable to help himself, and they both glance fondly at Umi who is drinking her lemonade in slow, careful sips, as if treasuring it. It’s a big cup, and they both know she won’t even get close to finishing it. “She was a little quiet at first, and a little unsure, and she gets frustrated very easily when she doesn’t get something right.”

“Well, she is our daughter,” Victor jokes, and Yuuri’s smile grows. “So do I have the best ideas or do I have the best ideas?”

Yuuri groans, rolling his eyes and distracting himself with his tea. But when he sips it, his eyes dart just over Victor’s shoulder, and Victor can’t stop himself from turning to look. Some of the mothers are still mulling around the entrance to the studio, talking to each other behind their hands or with their heads bent close together.

“You should have heard what they were saying about you,” Yuuri says, looking at Victor in an almost resigned way.

“Me?” He presses a hand to his chest for emphasis. “You should have heard what they were saying about _you_.” Nothing bad, of course. It had all been impeccably true, and Victor intends to tell Yuuri every last word. He should know that his students’ parents think so highly of him. “…what _did_ they say about me?” He asks, grin turning impish, and Yuuri huffs out a laugh.

“Nothing that wouldn’t inflate your ego more, and there’s hardly room in the house for it as is,” Yuuri teases him, and Victor pouts. “Thank you, for the tea,” he tacks on, and Victor’s sorrow melts off his face.

“Of course,” he responds, softly. “You’re staying hydrated, right?” Victor reaches out, brushing some of the hair out of Yuuri’s face. “Do you need us to bring you lunch?”

“Are we having lunch with ‘Tousan?” Umi asks, looking up at them, and Yuuri smiles at her.

“I would love to have lunch with you and Papa, Umi,” Yuuri coos, and her answering smile hits Victor in the chest like an arrow of intense, unconditional affection. Without a second thought, Victor whisks his daughter up into his arms, twirling her around as she shrieks out a giggle and Yuuri has to dodge away from flailing legs.

“Vitya!” Yuuri tries to scold, but he’s smiling too big, and Victor remembers his latte, and Umi’s drink, and manages to give his beautiful husband a passably apologetic smile over their daughter’s head.

“What? I didn’t spill anything,” Victor chimes happily, holding his daughter close, albeit a little awkwardly. Yuuri sighs, but his expression is fond, and he comes a little closer, hand resting on Umi’s back.

“My next class starts soon, but I’ll see you both afterwards, okay?” He’s looking more at Umi than at Victor, and Umi is still smiling from her sudden spin about the room. Her head bobs too many times in a nod, and then she dips forward, pressing a small kiss to Yuuri’s eyebrow.

“Bye-bye, ‘Tousan.”

“Umi daisuki da yo,” Yuuri murmurs softly, and then glances at Victor. They stare at each other for a few moments, and Victor can feel that delicate pluck of longing in his heart, the one that never quite seems to go away—years of being together, or being married, and there are still parts of him that want for Yuuri to be even closer.

Yuuri glances away for a moment, and then ducks in, and Victor doesn’t quite believe what he thinks is about to happen (what he _really_ wants to happen) is happening until Yuuri’s lips close rather decidedly on his own.

Yuuri is kissing him.

Yuuri is kissing him _in the studio_.

Victor has had a hundred fantasies about this, at minimum, although they usually didn’t involve their toddler daughter.

(He would say they didn’t involve onlookers, either, but that would just be a bold faced lie.)

Victor hums happily into the kiss, wishing his hands weren’t so _occupied_ so he could touch his husband as badly when he wants to, and then feels a tiny hand pushing against his cheek, Umi sighing and muttering a put-upon, “ _Stop it_.”

Yuuri breaks the kiss with a giggle, and Victor finds himself smiling as Yuuri’s hand comes up to cradle his jaw.

“I’ll see you both after my next class, all right?”

“We’ll be here,” Victor promises, twisting his head to kiss the heel of Yuuri’s palm before finally taking a step back, and another. He makes it about five steps before Yuuri is shooing him to turn around with a roll of his eyes, and Victor does a graceful pivot on his toe, pleased smile still dripping on his lips—and is surprised to find that, despite class having ended nearly 15 minutes ago, and the next batch of students (a second level class, judging by their age) already trickling in, there’s still quite an audience at the door.

He gives them all a glowing smile as he excuses himself through the doorway, and is met with silence and shocked stares. He tips his head in consideration, shifting Umi where she’s still resting on his hip, but decides not to think much of it.

After all, he would be devastated to find out Yuuri was taken, too. How heart broken they all must be.

He makes it about halfway to the door when the mothers still huddled by the door explode in whispers that aren’t nearly as quiet as they think they are.

“He’s _gay?_ ”

“He’s _not_ a single dad?”

“He’s married to the _ballet teacher?_ ”

“That is a twist I did not see coming.”

“…Okay, but did you guys see how _adorable_ they were?”

“Shut _up_ , Tasha.”

**Author's Note:**

> okay second day notes:
> 
> \- I imagine that, after Victor and Yuuri both retire, they decide to start a family. Mari donates her eggs to the cause, but in no way wants to be pregnant herself, so they use a service to find an actual surrogate.
> 
> \- because I don't know how to write things taking place anywhere else, I guess they decide to raise their family in the States lol.
> 
> \- Yuuri owns and teaches at his own ballet studio. Victor is more-or-less a stay-at-home dad, although he's currently working on his autobiography (so fucking Extra, I can't).
> 
> \- Tasha and the other moms start having post-ballet class brunches where they mostly gush about the ballet teacher and his husband.
> 
> \- writing kids is H A R D. this fic focused a lot more heavily on the nosy moms and their gossiping than it did on Victor and Yuuri's relationships with Umi, so. maybe I'll be back to explore that later.
> 
> [hmu on tumblr <3](http://missmichellebelle.tumblr.com)


End file.
